


Who knew this day would come?

by Hipster71elmWeebtrash



Series: I look up at the gaps of sunlight, I miss you more than anything [2]
Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, F/F, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Gen, Hinata Hajime and Kamukura Izuru Are Siblings, Hinata Hajime and Kamukura Izuru are Separate People, Human Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Kamukura Izuru Project | Hope Cultivation Plan, M/M, Nonbinary Kamukura Izuru, Romance, Self-Esteem Issues, Slice of Life, Victim Blaming, aromantic & asexual Kamukura Izuru, slowburn, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-19 02:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29992467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hipster71elmWeebtrash/pseuds/Hipster71elmWeebtrash
Summary: He had never remembered autumn fondly. The season was always a transitional period between summer and winter, alternating between comfortably warm and annoyingly chilly. Now, it might as well be his favorite season, as it now represented nothing but safety and new beginnings. It had been cool on their walks before, but his long hair had always acted as a thin, yet effective protection against the cold. So, when the wind swept the area, rustling trees and weaving in his hair, nipping at his ears, it sent a shiver down his spine. The sudden chill didn’t even feel unwelcome, it was cold, sure. But it was cold in a way that also gave him a sense of relief, if that made any sense. Perhaps it was because it was the opposite of the bone chilling cold that had him pressing himself closer to the damp floor to try and absorb warmth of any kind. Instead, it gave him a jolt of energy and was hardly even a concern with the number of layers he was now wearing.(note that this is the sequel of the first fic in this series, so I recommend reading {the world is cruel, but we don't have to be}, first.)
Relationships: Hinata Hajime & Kamukura Izuru, Hinata Hajime & Komaeda Nagito, Hinata Hajime & Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko, Hinata Hajime & Kuzuryu Natsumi, Hinata Hajime & Nanami Chiaki, Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito, Kamukura Izuru & Pekoyama Peko, Kamukura Izuru & Tsumiki Mikan, Mioda Ibuki/Tsumiki Mikan, kamukura izuru & mioda ibuki
Series: I look up at the gaps of sunlight, I miss you more than anything [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2202939
Comments: 39
Kudos: 35





	1. chap. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Voila, the first chapter of the sequel!  
> This fic is going to be more like a slice of life with overarching plot lines.  
> Nevertheless, enjoy!

The first time he took a shower, in who knows how long, was about a week after he was rescued. The day that the hospital nurse assigned to him, declared him healthy enough to not severely injure himself if he fell, she recommended he take a quick shower. Out of everything he had wished he could do once he escaped; showering hadn’t been one of them. Maybe, in those dark and blurry months before izuru’s creation, he had wanted to be clean. But it soon became a silly desire. After all, what was the point in wishing to be clean if you only got dirtier every single day? What was the point of wetting your hair in the sink if you couldn’t dry it and if you got a cold, you’d most likely die? What was the point of feeling bothered by filth if being aware that you’re covered in dirt was a sign that you were still alive?

That’s all to say, that he severely underestimated the relief of being clean. The water washed away the dirt and it felt like shedding an old skin, getting rid of a weight that he’d forgotten was there. Although being clean felt great, it forced him to take a good look at himself and what he now looked like. He felt like he was almost unrecognizable, his skin had lost its slight tan, now an almost putrid white. The many injuries adorning his skin stood out like a sore thumb, all freshly disinfected and bright red. Needless to say, it was a relief to have them re-bandaged, out of sight out of mind, as they say.

Another thing that was suddenly on display, thrust into the forefront of his thoughts, was his long hair. It’s almost funny how gradual the change had been. He had started with hair so short it stuck out at weird angles and escaped with the inability to remember how it felt like to not have hair blocking his view. Down there, having long hair was almost a comfort. They couldn’t see the fear in your eyes if they couldn’t see your eyes, they couldn’t exploit your vulnerability if they couldn’t make out your expression. Having long hair had allowed him a certain amount of privacy and safety that, although was ultimately useless and placebo like, was something he treasured deeply. Now though, being so viscerally aware of it, it only felt like an innocent reminder of his life just a week ago, the life he thought he’d have until his death. His hair had once been vibrant, unmanageable and wild, notably due to a strand of hair at the top of his head that stuck up no matter how many times he brushed it down. But not anymore, his hair was now straight as an arrow, settling on his shoulders awkwardly. His head felt heavy, from his hair or from his thoughts, was unclear. He was never one for appearances, but looking like this now…it felt wrong. It was as if he was some spirit that stubbornly continued to haunt the places he once cherished, like he was some ghost that people feared, as if he was dead and unwanted. He felt the urge to hack off his hair. As if cutting it recklessly would throw away the memories of the past and forge a new chapter in his life.

Unable, or perhaps more accurately, unwilling to resist this sudden urge, he reached for a pair of scissors that had been carelessly left behind by the nurse, a pair that she had used to cut off his old bandages. After checking that the nurse wasn’t about to enter his room, he brought the scissors to his long bangs and started to cut.

* * *

Nagito was on his way to the hospital to join hajime on his daily walk. Since he had slowly started recovering, it was recommended that hajime do some form of low-risk exercise, to build back muscle mass and improve his health. Unfortunately, walking still required a lot of effort on his part, so nagito had volunteered to accompany him as support.

At first, he had volunteered purely out of guilt and regret. He regretted the way he had spoken to him before he was forced to reevaluate his entire belief system. He regretted lying to himself and pretending they hadn’t been slowly becoming friends. He regretted only being of any help to him after he’d escaped from the jaws of death. But soon enough, he started to accompany him out of a genuine desire to walk with him. Slowly but surely, they were becoming good friends, just like he had always imagined they would have, had they not been from different classes. Every day, hajime looked a bit healthier, a little happier and every walk they went on, the sun seemed to shine a little brighter.

So, as he enters the hospital, he quickens his pace. Eager to reach his hospital room and have another nice and, dare he say, hopeful, walk. When he finally reaches the room and opens the door, it truly is a sight to see. There he is, just sitting in the hospital bed, with his hair suddenly completely messy, unruly and incredibly anarchic.

“Your hair…”

Hajime just looks sheepish.

“Oh, I just cut it myself. It was getting in the way…Shall we get going?”

All nagito can seem to do is stare. Perhaps it’s because he looks uncannily similar to how he used to, minus the contrasting bandages. Or, maybe it’s how mesmerizing he appears, his brown hair looks so soft and a tuft of it on the top of his head sticks out like an antenna. Nagito is struck with the sudden urge to reach out and touch it, but manages to hold himself back. It would incredibly audacious of him to even consider such a thing after all.

“Um, nagito?”

That startles him out of his reverie. He can only stare in shock at hajime, who appears to be equally as flustered.

“I mean komaeda! Sorry…”

“It’s al-alright…”

They stare at each other for a moment, before hajime breaks the silence.

“Should we get going?”

“Of course!”

He extends him a hand and hajime takes it gratefully, using it to leverage himself out of bed. For a moment, their hands stay connected, before hajime suddenly let’s go and grabs onto his arm to steady himself, instead. Now holding his arm, they both head out.

* * *

It was easy to forget that he had been saved when he was in the hospital. All medical equipment did, was remind him of life in that underground prison and the hospital was full of it. So, waking up was often accompanied with a brief moment of confusion, before remembering that he safe now. But, when he was outside, it was impossible for him to forget. The very fact of being outside brought only wonder, relief and joy. Every day, he looked forward to their daily walks.

Today was no exception, one step outside and it already felt like a breath of fresh air, both literally and figuratively. The sun shone down intensely and it felt like greeting an old friend. It illuminated everything in a bright and soft glow. The warmth on his face was a stark contrast to the sharp, cold air. The soft fake fur of his coat’s collar tickles his cheekbones and ears, his coat hugs his frame loosely, encapsulating warmth. Even the occasional gust of bitingly cold wind, wasn’t enough to dampen his spirits.

He had never remembered autumn fondly. The season was always a transitional period between summer and winter, alternating between comfortably warm and annoyingly chilly. Now, it might as well be his favorite season, as it now represented nothing but safety and new beginnings. It had been cool on their walks before, but his long hair had always acted as a thin, yet effective protection against the cold. So, when the wind swept the area, rustling trees and weaving in his hair, nipping at his ears, it sent a shiver down his spine. The sudden chill didn’t even feel unwelcome, it was cold, sure. But it was cold in a way that also gave him a sense of relief, if that made any sense. Perhaps it was because it was the opposite of the bone chilling cold that had him pressing himself closer to the damp floor to try and absorb warmth of any kind. Instead, it gave him a jolt of energy and was hardly even a concern with the number of layers he was now wearing.

Nagito had noticed his shivering and grew concerned.

“Are you cold? Should we head back?”

“Nah, let’s continue, we’re near the end anyway.”

“If you say so…”

Hajime tried to reassure him.

“It’s not any colder than normal, I just forgot how cold my ears get when I had short hair.”

“That makes sense, your hair is certainly… quite unique.”

A bit self-conscious, hajime touched the top of his head.

“I should have known this was a mistake, it was a spur of the moment thing and I don’t really regret it, but had I known it’d be ugly…”

Nagito is already at the ready with a rebuttal.

“What! It’s not ugly! It just reminds me of your hairstyle…back then. Trust me, then and now, you and your hair are the farthest thing from ugly!”

That outburst was quite the surprise to hajime. It took him a minute to process his words. When he did though, it startled him even more.

“The farthest thing from ugly? …Did you just call me beautiful!?”

Nagito immediately starts panicking and avoiding hajime’s gaze so that he doesn’t notice his burning red cheeks. Unfortunately, this also means that he misses the pink hue that had spread on the other’s cheeks. He can’t run away despite his initial instinct, since hajime is holding his arm for support. So, he secretly hopes that the situation will just resolve itself and it does, in a way.

“Was that not what you meant?”

Nagito doesn’t answer.

“It’s alright if it wasn’t, I’m not one to get mad for a little miscommunication.”

He struggles with forming a response, unsure of what he could possibly say that would alleviate the situation. But before he can formulate an answer, they arrive back at the hospital, having looped back.

* * *

When they come back to the room, it’s already time for the gamer squad to visit. They had all insisted that they should have the right to a hospital visit every single day, as if being unable to see him for even just one day was unbearable. So, not too long after hajime had settled himself back into the covers, tired from their brief stroll, izuru burst through the door, chiaki, natsumi and fuyuhiko not too far behind. When nagito had first seen hajime’s ahoge, he had stopped himself from touching it, izuru however, had no such reservations. The very first thing izuru did when entering, was sit next to hajime and flick his ahoge. Hajime was barely hiding his amusement.

“What’s so interesting about my hair?”

“How do you coerce your hair to do such a thing?”

“Oh, I honestly don’t know, it just does that when I have short hair.”

Izuru nodded in understanding.

“So, if I were to cut my hair, I would most likely also gain this, ahoge.”

“It’s a good thing you won’t, because then it would be harder to tell us apart!” He says jokingly.

Then he notices the contemplative expression on izuru’s face.

“You aren’t seriously considering it…right?”

“Perhaps.”

Before he can dwell too much on the image of izuru with short hair and an ahoge, chiaki ruffles his hair. She smiles at him brightly.

“You look good with short hair.”

Natsumi looks absolutely bewildered.

“And here I thought that you purposefully spent a good chunk of your morning forming that thing with hair gel! To think that it was actually natural…”

Fuyuhiko backs her up.

“Yeah, call me old fashioned, but it still blows my mind that hair does stuff like that.”

Nagito looks at them confusedly.

“What’s so strange about hair being wild and unpredictable?”

Fuyuhiko just snorts and looks at him.

“As if you’re one to talk, look at that messy mop you call hair.”

Hajime adds enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I think it looks more like a cloud than hair, honestly.”

Nagito crosses his arms defensively.

“What’s so bad about that?”

Chiaki observes their argument and simply shrugs, turning to hajime.

“Do you think you’ll be able to come to game night this time?”

He smiles at her reassuringly.

“Yeah, it might be a tougher walk than usual, but I think I can manage!”

“Just promise to tell me if you get tired.”

“Chiaki, I don’t think you’ll be able to carry me anymore, I had three meals yesterday!”

She looks unconvinced.

“I suppose I’ll let izuru carry you, if it comes to that…”

He tries to change the topic of conversation, in a desperate attempt to divert her attention from his physical wellbeing.

“Anyway, what game are we going to play?”

It seems to have worked, for she declared excitedly: “Super smash bros!”

“No!” Fuyuhiko shouts instantly. “Anything but that! Can’t we play something else for once!” He whines.

“We could play mario cart…” Nagito tries to offer.

“But I’m not good at that either…”

Natsumi just rolls her eyes and elbows him.

“oh, just suck it up, stop whining like a baby and just play the goddam video game!”

Ever the pacifist, hajime tries to reason with them.

“Well, maybe we could play two different games? I was thinking of introducing izuru to Super Paper Mario, so that they could appreciate a classic.”

Chiaki nods.

“A little bit of smash bros and a little bit Super Paper Mario, sounds good to me!” She looks at izuru. “What do you think?”

“It does not matter to me either way. Though, as game mechanics are no challenge to me, perhaps I would better enjoy more story-based games.”

Hajime looks quite proud of himself.

“Well, that checks out! Because Super Paper Mario has quite the storyline. It’s my favorite game of all time!”

Nagito looks at him curiously.

“That’s a bit surprising, I would have thought that your favorite game would be super smash bros or Mario kart, due to its option to play peach.”

“Oh, you can play as peach in Super Paper Mario too!”

“That makes sense then.”

Nagito nods as if hajime had responded just as he expected. It irked him just a tad.

“Don’t look at me like that! It’s not as if I’m addicted to playing peach or something!”

Natsumi chuckles.

“Yeah, you are, but maybe not as much as you’re addicted to tea.”

“I’m not addicted to tea either!”

“Sure…and you don’t ask sonia for more tea every time you see her. I swear you drink more tea than water in a day.”

“It’s just calming, that’s all there is to it.”

Nagito puts a hand on his shoulder reassuringly.

“It’s alright, you can drink as much tea as you want. I could get you some right now if you’d like?”

“You’re not really helping me here.”

But before nagito could say anything, a nurse entered and informed them that visiting hours had been cut short. Reluctantly, they exited one by one. Chiaki waved at him.

“See you tomorrow, we’ll play so many video games you’ll get sick of it, I think.”

Like every day, nagito asked the same question.

“Goodbye, you still want to walk with me tomorrow?”

“Yes, komaeda.”

Fuyuhiko simply left with a short “Bye”, while natsumi lingered at the door frame and shot him a snarky grin.

“Love the haircut by the way.”

Hajime just gave her an exasperated look.

“Are you being sarcastic?”

She shrugged.

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Then she skedaddled out of there before the nurse could shoo her out. Izuru pulled him into a hug and only let go, rather reluctantly, when the nurse gave him a look.

He then left swiftly, with a final; “Eat well, big brother.”

Hajime watched the nurse set down his meal and nutritional supplements on the bedside table, though all he could think of, was the fun they would definitely have tomorrow.


	2. Chap. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of pacing myself and my own mental health, my update schedule will be weekly.   
> (Although, if you followed my first story, you know that I don't really stick to my own script and that my update schedule is awfully sporadic. So if I update three times in a week, don't be surprised.)
> 
> Spoilers for the game Super Paper Mario.

Izuru didn’t understand what people meant when they spoke of normal. He heard them speak of normalcy and promising to bring this situation back to normal, but what did that mean? They reasoned that it was inherently subjective, changing from one person to the next. It must be, for it would be troublesome if that weren’t the case. Izuru sincerely doubts that his version of normal is similar to others, truthfully, it must vastly differ in definition. To them, normalcy was tests and procedures, it was cold, bland meals, it was short nights and clinging to their brother’s side for any form of happiness. To return to normal at this point, would mean sacrificing hajime’s wellbeing, ibuki’s companionship, warm meals, support and vengeful justice. They wouldn’t trade this current lifestyle for anything.

That did not mean that this new life was not discombobulating, quite the opposite in fact. It threw them for a loop, every time that ibuki introduced him to something supposedly normal and essential. From sleeping in a bed, to eating three meals a day, to blankets and television. It was all very disorienting, it felt has though every time they believed they had finally understood and adjusted to life on the surface, something new and strange popped out of the woodwork. This time, it was video games. Izuru had assumed that they understood video games, they had the knowledge and skill to master every game mechanic ever created, after all. But a talent and a brief summary from his brother, did not prepare them for the unique experience of playing a video game. Though he would eventually, get the hang of it, as they say.

It seemed to be a similar experience for their brother as well, though he had already experienced these things. Hypothetically, the transition to luxury would be smoother with prior knowledge, but it appeared that months in captivity changed your view of life and normalcy. For, hajime was equally confused when given excess food or coddled in any fashion. A part of him was glad that there was an aspect of life that he shared only with izuru, that none of his friends could quite comprehend on the level that they could. Although, even if his friends didn’t understand, they were still concerned by these, completely valid misunderstandings. What was so strange about fearing scalpels? It was a completely valid fear that his brother held, why was this so concerning to them? It wasn’t only the gamer squad, ibuki and mikan also seemed to be distressed by some of his habits. Izuru understood that their definitions of normal vastly differed, but they were starting to wonder if there was a greater reason for their discomfort. Their old life in the facility had not been a good experience. But he was given reason to believe that it might have been a traumatizing one. Now that was a thought.

They were currently on their way to accompany Hajime and possibly that fellow, nagito. Today, would be his first time experiencing a phenomenon known as game night. Brother had seemed very eager to attend this event and as such, izuru had felt compelled to tag along. Though it seems as though they deliberately altered this tradition to accommodate izuru’s inexperience. They hoped that this game night was able to answer some questions of his. Such as, who is this infamous Mario? Is peach, as a character, a human being or a fruit? If it is a fruit, how do they hold an umbrella? All very dire and important questions that lacked concrete answers so far.

* * *

First on the list of games to play, was one by the name of super smash brothers’ tournament. It was revealed that peach was not in fact human, but humanoid and part fungi, due to her tittle as princess toadstool. This particular game seemed to work as some sort of tournament, where players chose their characters and fought in a virtual arena. Hajime had selected peach, Chiaki had taken yoshi, Fuyuhiko chose bowser, natsumi picked sheik and nagito incredibly indecisive, had been switching from Mario and daisy several times before he accidentally clicked on pit and that was that. Izuru was a tad overwhelmed by the sheer number of choices, they had made it clear that izuru could pick any character. Unless it was this pink creature of the name Kirby. Apparently, it was an unspoken rule that nobody would pick this creature, for they were apparently overpowered and very advantageous.

Izuru studied the list of characters intently. Eventually, they chose this character by the name of rosalina and luma. Apparently, this choice was a humorous one, since natsumi started to guffaw.

“Look at the influence you have hajime! Your bro just picked a bonafide emo peach!”

“Lay off natsumi, it’s not my fault if izuru has taste.”

The game itself was interesting, if a little monotonous. As expected, it barely took him a minute to grasp the mechanics and enact the designated mission, to eradicate all opponents. Soon enough, they were at a standstill, rosalina versus yoshi, izuru versus chiaki. Unfortunately, it seemed that they were evenly matched, five minutes of gameplay and cheers from the other players, revealed that this could feasibly go on forever. So, for the next game, chiaki volunteered to opt out, to see a more concrete outcome to the game. This round, was seemingly over before it started. This time around, izuru completed their mission, but the game did not end. Confused, izuru turned to chiaki to address this issue. Her experience as the ultimate gamer must have an answer to this conundrum.

“I have finished, what is the next step to complete?”

She looked at him, seemingly utterly perplexed.

“There is no next step, you just defeat opponents.”

“Then why has it not ended?”

“You still have to defeat peach…”

“Why would I do such a thing?”

“That’s just the game…Hajime, help me with this.”

Hajime got their attention.

“Izuru why don’t you want to fight peach?”

“Brother, this question is pointless. Of course, I wouldn’t fight the character peach, you are playing her.”

“What does that have anything to do with it?”

Izuru gives him a look that conveys that the answer is obvious. Hajime forges on.

“Would you fight peach if ibuki was playing her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Izuru sighs in exasperation.

“Why would I fight a friend of mine? Or my brother for that matter? I do not see any legitimate reason for brutalizing my loved ones.”

“Izuru, you do know that this is just a video game?”

“My point still stands.”

Hajime smiles at him fondly.

“Beating up my character in a video game is not the equivalent of hurting me in real life, there are no hard feelings carried over. In fact, I think ibuki would be mad at you for not taking her seriously. This game is just for fun, though it’s a little flattering that you won’t even consider hurting me, even in a video game.”

“You have enough injuries, no need to inflict you any more, even on your virtual character.”

“Aw, izuru…”

Fuyuhiko cuts in.

“Now that you two are done your little moment, can we play the other game, super Mario whatever? I’ve had enough of super smash bros for the week.”

Natsumi grins at hajime.

“Wow, you really are a magnet for overpowered gamers, how do you do it?”

He tries to protest “I really don’t think that’s accurate, there’s no good reason that chiaki and izuru hang out with me-”

Chiaki cuts him off and slings an arm around his shoulders. “I know right? It’s a bonafide super power, but it’s completely understandable with how awesome he is.”

Izuru nods in agreement and hajime can recognize a losing battle when he sees one.

Nagito sighs.

“Though it is a tad hurtful that the ultimate hope sees no fault in defeating the rest of us.”

* * *

Izuru was absolutely bewildered.

“How do they not recognize him?!”

He gestures to the screen angrily.

“Do they not see that this ‘mysterious Mr L’ is actually luigi?”

Hajime put a hand on their shoulder.

“It’s ok izuru, this is just your first taste of video game logic.”

“That does not explain how even the man’s brother has no inkling of his true identity. Brainwashing only destroys so much of one’s personality and mannerisms, after all.”

“Setting aside your concerning knowledge of brainwashing, they’re video game characters. They don’t realize that it’s actually luigi because the game developers don’t want them to, just yet.”

“Still, it’s preposterous, if you were to change your clothes and adorn a mask, I would still recognize you!”

“Nice to know you won’t get confused when Halloween rolls around.”

“…What’s Halloween?”

“Oh boy, pause the game, this might take a while.”

* * *

The screen fades to black and starts the segment of count bleck recalling his time with timpany. They’ve gotten to the scene when timpany is proclaimed dead, killed by blumiere’s father, even if she is actually on the brink of death, crawling through another world. Hajime notices that chiaki’s hands have started trembling, it’s so slight, it’s almost unperceivable. He wonders why this scene in particular would cause her distress, but the reason doesn’t truly matter in the end. Since she’s sitting next to him, he manages to whisper to her without anyone hearing, izuru might have heard but they’ve gained a sense of privacy, so it’s not the end of the world.

“Are you alright?”

She’s taken aback, as if she had forgotten he was there. She nods but doesn’t stop shaking. After a moment, she hesitantly takes hold of his hand. Her grip is worryingly loose, as if she thought he might reject it. He holds her hand back and gives it a reassuring squeeze. She smiles at that and he could’ve sworn he saw the start of tears, budding in the corner of her eyes.

* * *

Sometimes, it felt a little lonely in the hospital. He would wait for people to visit him like a fish to water. Sitting there, in a room that was about the size of his cell, helpless and unable to venture off on his own without worsening his injuries. It brought a horrible feeling, not as bad as in the past, nothing could truly be compared to the sheer horror and despair that had become his new normal. But, being all alone with no way to contact anyone, waiting for someone to come to him, it felt a little similar to waiting for izuru to return to the cell. He was just plain lonely. In all honesty, it was really nothing compared to everything and anything he has had to endure, but it wasn’t the best feeling regardless.

Although, being here, surrounded by all of his friends and his little brother, playing his favorite video game and holding chiaki’s hand. It was hard to feel lonely now. Though, it was a truly mystery why they wanted to spend any time with him. It was as if everything he believed as fact, was actually the opposite. Chiaki hadn’t moved on; it turns out that she’d continued to look for him for months. Natsumi had woken up from her coma and was still friends with him. Nagito didn’t think he was a worthless reserve course student anymore, in fact, it seems as though he actually regrets ever belittling him and he even helped them find him. Though, realistically, it could just be that he finds it blasphemous to degrade him now that his brother is the ultimate hope. Fuyuhiko actually cares about him and hadn’t blacklisted him for beating him at super smash bros. Finally, izuru still cared about him. Even after escaping, meeting other people and making friends…they still seemed to think that he’s worth saving. It didn’t make any sense, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. That all being said, that it shouldn’t have been a surprise that they would react poorly if he got hurt. Even so, it did still surprise him that this was their reaction to a bruise.

He had accidently dropped the controller on his ankle and it didn’t hurt all that much, compared to his other injuries. Nevertheless, he could see the beginnings of a little bruise, nothing major. Maybe his first mistake was to announce that fact. He picked up the controller and rubbed his ankle to soothe it.

“Man, I hope this doesn’t bruise…”

Instantaneously, everyone started to act, as if in unison, chiaki being the leader.

“Nagito, would you go get some elastic bandages?”

“yes.”

He nods once and runs off. She turns to natsumi.

“Can you get an ice pack?”

“I’m on it.”

She leaves as well. Next is fuyuhiko.

“Could you get a pillow, to elevate the ankle?”

“Got it.”

He sets off to search. She looks izuru in the eyes.

“I’m sure I can trust you to carry him back?”

“of course.”

Finally, she turns all her attention onto him.

“Do you need anything? Does it hurt? I can get you some tea if you’d like?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea. But I’m perfectly fine! I don’t need any of those things that everyone else is searching for, this is just overkill! It’s just a little bruise. I don’t need to be coddled like this!”

Her gaze turns a tad somber, but her voice is clear and sincere.

“I don’t mean to coddle you or anything hajime, but I can’t just do nothing when you get hurt. Not when you’re covered in bandages from injuries that I couldn’t protect you from. I just don’t want you to be in pain.”

He’s stunned into silence, then relents.

“Alright, I guess it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

So, he lets himself be coddled. He lets nagito and natsumi ice and wrap his ankle, he lefts fuyuhiko prop it on a pillow and he even lets izuru carry him back when they beat the game. All in all, it was a nice day in the end. They had fun and that was all that really mattered. He still doesn’t quite understand why they insist on caring about him and protecting him from anything and everything. But selfishly, he doesn’t really mind it. Being loved really is the best feeling in the world.


	3. chap. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take this gratuitous time skip with the knowledge that this is finally turning into the slice of life fic I promised I'd be.

The meager beams of sunlight that manage to escape from the cloudy sky, brightened the small kitchen. It illuminated the granite countertops and by extension, the pair of scarred hands filling up a small kettle with water. He set it to boil and rubbed his droopy eyelids, trying to stay awake, through what felt like a lazy morning. The comfortable atmosphere was certainly reminiscent of a relaxing Sunday morning, but it was unfortunately, still the middle of the week. After hearing the unmistakable sound of gurgling water, Hajime ventured off to the small dining room table and opened up his laptop. Class wouldn’t start for another twenty minutes, but it was better to have it opened up ahead of time, in case there was poor internet connection. It was a godsend that they had accepted his request for accommodations, he was still in need of a high school diploma after all and he wasn’t ready to go back to class in person. Not while he looked like this, bandages and scar concealer could only do so much at the end of the day. A resounding click was heard, notifying him that the water had boiled. He got up to fetch a tea bag and prepare himself a cup of tea, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. On the edge of the counter, was a lunchbox. It was a simple, plain lunchbox, that was clearly untouched. Suddenly, all thoughts of tea disappeared.

He muttered a small “Fuck.” Before checking the time on his brand-new phone and rushing to the door.

Grabbing the lunchbox with one hand and his coat with the other, he ran out of the dorm without bothering to lock the door. He didn’t stop to put his coat on properly, just struggled to fit his arms through the sleeves while he ran. Soon, he had descended multiple rows of stairs and exited the building, running straight into the outdoors. The warmth from the surge of adrenaline prevented the cold air and the lack of sunlight from bothering him too much. He weaved his way through hordes of construction workers, that only seemed to keep multiplying every day, in an effort to finish their project before the brunt of winter. He didn’t even stop to stare at the remains of the huge building, too much in a hurry to even spare it a glance.

Soon enough, he reached a smaller, yet equally regal, building. He entered it without so much as a second thought and hurried to a specific room that was only recognizable by a flimsy piece of paper stuck to the door, with the words; class 77. He reached for his phone to tell the time and audibly exhaled in relief, before opening the door with a little less urgency. It barely took him a minute to zero in on izuru’s location amongst the bunch of students and call out.

“Izuru! You forgot your lunch!”

He held up the lunchbox for emphasis. The chatter didn’t die down, but izuru promptly paused his conversation with ibuki to spring up from his seat and meet him at the door. Ibuki, without missing a beat, joined them.

“Thank you, I apologize for my careless oversight.”

They took the lunchbox gratefully and gave him a hopeful look.

“Might there be octopi shaped sausages?”

“And onigiri with heart shaped plums?!” Ibuki added excitedly.

He smiled fondly at them and nodded.

“Yes, and yes, I made sure to make a few extras for you ibuki.”

She punched the air in victory and fist bumped izuru.

“I don’t know how I ever lived without your bro’s and mikan’s cooking!”

He interrupted their enthusiasm, his voice suddenly stern.

“Izuru, don’t forget to eat your asparagus.”

Izuru pointedly refused to look him in eye and he sighed.

“If I hear from ibuki that you didn’t eat your vegetables this time, I swear to god we won’t bake cupcakes this weekend.”

There was a sharp intake of breath and izuru gave him an indignant look. Ibuki crossed her arms in retaliation.

“ibuki will not rat on her friend!”

Hajime sighs in exasperation and replies.

“Well then, care to guess who won’t be allowed to use my slushy machine for a week?”

Her face turns into one full of betrayal and she clutches her shirt where her heart would be and groans as if badly wounded. She turns to izuru and says apologetically.

“I’m so sorry izuru, he’s too strong! I’ve been defeated…”

Izuru looks off into the distance wistfully and whispers mournfully.

“He is quite the fearsome opponent.”

They face hajime head on and say dramatically.

“Fine, you have won. I will eat the asparagus.”

Hajime looks at the both of them tiredly.

“I guess I know now, what happens when you two hang out too often around gundham.”

Chiaki walks over to them excitedly with nagito.

“Hey hajime! What brings you here so early?”

“Just had to deliver izuru’s lunch.”

Nagito asks timidly.

“Are you still wanting to walk with me after school?”

“Yeah, but it might have to be a little later than usual.”

“How come?”

“The principle wants to talk with me and maybe izuru afterwards.”

Chiaki looks wary.

“What about?”

“Something about [the origins of the fire].”

Nagito looks away sheepishly.

“Oh.”

Chiaki looks even warier, if that was even possible.

“If it turns out that he lied and he was involved with…that, please don’t hesitate to scream bloody murder and, as natsumi would say, kick him in the balls!”

“Will do.”

He takes a quick glance at his phone and the color drains from his face.

“I got to go; I’m going to be late! See you guys later! Bye!”

Then he hurries out of the classroom as if he had been set on fire.

* * *

Yukizome watched the student run off in a rush. Though, what she was truly doing at the moment, was mulling over the conversation she’d just overheard. If what they’d just said was any evidence, the devastating fire was not in fact, a freak accident, as she had originally presumed.

Her students had always been eccentric and a tad dangerous, but arson!? That was too much…

Suddenly she began to doubt her student’s innocence. She’d just realized that arson was not in fact, completely off the table. Especially when komaeda was involved.

Determined to get to the bottom of this, she approached Chiaki and nagito. She decided to play it coy, beat around the bush a little, to hopefully wriggle out some answers. That was the only way she would get anything out of them. For nagito was a deceptively good liar and Chiaki had a notorious poker face.

“Hello students! Did you have a nice chat with that fellow? I believe that was izuru’s brother, if I’m not mistaken?”

Chiaki bobbed her head in reply and rubbed her droopy eyelids.

“Hmm, yeah, that was hajime. He’s not just izuru’s brother though, he’s also my best bud.”

“oh? That’s curious, I’ve only seen him around just recently, you must race through your friendships like you’re on a race car!” She exclaims playfully.

“Not really, I’ve known him for a bit, it’s just...I haven’t seen him in a while. Because of…reasons…”

Nagito comes to the rescue.

“They are fairly legitimate reasons that are quite private, so perhaps we shouldn’t discuss them!”

She spots her chance and swoops in.

“Why? Because they pertain to the fire?”

Nagito falters almost unperceptively, but the polite smile is still firmly in place.

“That’s quite the silly notion! Hinata wouldn’t hurt a fly!”

“Then why would he mention, and I quote; [the origins of the fire]?”

The two are dead silent. Chisa decides to go on a different direction and backtrack a bit of her persistence.

“I’m not mad at any of you! I simply want to know if you knew how the fire started?” She lets out an exasperated sigh. “And to beg you all to lay off on the arson for a while, you could get in serious trouble you know!”

Her gaze lingers on nagito. He flushes and looks away. He has the decency to at least appear somewhat embarrassed, or ashamed, she really couldn’t tell. Either way, they both seemed a little more willing to open up. Chiaki sighs.

“Oh, fuck it, there’s no way she already knows.” She looks up defiantly and just says, without a trace of remorse. “It had to be done, justice had to be served.”

Nagito deflates.

“I thought we were at least going to deny it!?”

“Well miss yukizome would be on our side if she knew, so there’s no point acting shadier than we already are!”

“I guess you have a point there.”

Chisa watched the exchange with both confusion and amusement.

“So, you do know what started the fire?”

Chiaki rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, just the flaming sword of vengeance.”

Chisa gestures for her to continue. All chiaki does is point insistently at herself.

“So, you started it?”

“yep, just me. An arsonist all by her lonesome.”

Nagito seems genuinely offended.

“Don’t extinguish your hope just to protect me! It was me! I did it!”

Chiaki and nagito both stare at each other testily. Chisa is completely lost.

“I’m just going to assume it was a team effort, but what I really want to know is, why? You say it’s justice, but I don’t quite understand what you mean by that?”

They exchange a look, communicating with their eyes. Chiaki raised one pale eyebrow and seemed to have won their silent debate. Tiredly, she answers her teacher.

“Hajime didn’t always have heterochromia, you know? He used to have two beautiful pale green eyes.”

Chiaki smiles wistfully and all of a sudden, chisa gets a bad feeling about this entire conversation.

“What do you mean by that?”

It only went downhill from there.

* * *

Hajime stared blankly at the principal of hope’s peak academy. Had he any sympathy left, he would’ve noticed the dark bags under his eyes and the defeated slouch that had replaced his once pristine posture. But he didn’t have sympathy to spare, not for the likes of them. Any and all form of pity for hope’s peak staff had died a long time ago, dwindled into dust as easily as blood poured down his face. Sure, he claimed to have nothing to do with it, but that was hardly believable, he was the principal for god’s sake! He even had the gall to look remorseful.

Perhaps out of a habit of self-preservation, he kept silent, politely silent. It was much less of a conversation, that they were about to have, and more of a one-sided statement. Jin kirigiri had something to say and so, he’d wait. Finally, he spoke, after a while of tense silence.

“As you may already know, clearing the rubble from the burnt building revealed…something most horrendous. This has prompted several reforms, such as immediate changes in our staff, the relocation of classrooms, joint dorms…” He trailed off nervously. “But I have requested you here for your…unique opinion on the following matters as well as to grant you a formal apology.”

He sounded sincere, but the words were meaningless, nothing more than hollow and shallow platitudes. The thought that anything could be fixed with a mere apology, made him wish they’d burned his office as well. What caught his attention however, was the fact that they wanted his opinion on anything. His opinion had never mattered before, but it apparently did now, how ironic.

Sensing that hajime wasn’t going to reply, he continued.

“First of all, in addition to having provided you with new lodgings, I would like to offer my financial assistance for any medical matter you may come across. That extends to hospital bills and therapy appointments.”

Hajime’s not an idiot, he’s definitely not going to let this opportunity slide. Izuru would benefit from a bit of therapy and maybe even he, could attend a session or two. Nevertheless, there is no trace of gratefulness on his face, no visible reaction to this act of goodwill. Kirigiri takes a deep breath and gets to the meat of the issue.

“Another thing, I would like to resolve the dilemma of the reserve course. Preferably, I would rather mend the torn bridges, but I have no idea where to start nor how to go about it. In addition, my colleagues are very hesitant to act at all.”

He’s stunned. Out of everything, this was the last thing he thought he’d ever be able to influence. There are so many things he would change if he could. If he could do anything, he’d have to start with…

“Abolish it!”

The minute the words leave his mouth, he’s backtracking and trying to clarify his point.

“I mean, when you really look at it, the problem, the real crux of the issue, is that there’s a reserve course department, to begin with!”

The principal is clearly taken aback, but doesn’t dismiss his rantings, so he continues.

“Let me explain, on paper, it sounds good, a bunch of students have the chance to attend a prestigious school and get an advantageous education for a hefty but fair tuition. But it doesn’t work. If there’s anything I’ve learnt from my time here, it’s that the reserve course department, was never established for teaching talentless students.”

That seems to have piqued his curiosity.

“What might you mean by that?”

His tone comes out bitter, but he thinks he’s earned the right to be a little bitter.

“When you enroll in the reserve course, at first, everything is just peachy keen. But soon, you realize that something’s wrong. You pay so much to just earn your place, but somehow there isn’t enough money to spare, to fix the locks on bathroom stalls or patch holes in the walls of classrooms. I don’t know if you all spent the money on the ultimates or on that plan, but it sure feels like we’re all just your cash cows.” He huffs out a bitter laugh. “Of course, if that were the case, you’d treat us a little better. No offense, but reserve course students are treated like shit, just for existing. People hate our guts for nothing more than walking on the side walk, and I guess that’s how the plan was able to go undetected for so long…”

“I fail to see the connection.”

“I guess people view us as greedy and selfish students that don’t belong here and only serve to leach off of the main course’s success. Since our undeserved reputation followed us wherever we went, it wasn’t a surprise that there’d occasionally be a murder. Always a reserve course student as the victim, always an ultimate as the culprit. Sometimes they’re provoked, sometimes not, but it’s always one of us who ends up finding the bodies. At my time at this academy, I’ve seen my fair share of classmates turn up dead. So, it isn’t much of a shock that a few disappearances here and there wouldn’t rouse any additional suspicion.”

Kirigiri is frighteningly pale, he looks legitimately horrified. He seems even more tired, if that was possible. For a moment, he takes pity on the man, he believes that he truly hadn’t known any of this and is just being hit with bombshell after bombshell. But it doesn’t matter if he knew or not, only he has the power and influence to change it, this is his only chance to get his point across.

“What I’m saying, is that the way it is now, the reserve course department will never be what it could’ve been, what we hoped it’d be. I have some ideas on something else, however, if you’d be willing to listen…”

The man takes a moment to compose himself before answering.

“I’m listening.”

“I don’t quite know what it’d be called just yet, but imagine less of a department, and more of a program. Students have the chance to enroll in hope’s peak, free of tuition, but only in an effort to instill change. The whole point of hope’s peak was to spread hope using the talents of the ultimate students, wasn’t it? I think that even the talentless are capable of that. Instead of a glorified publicity stunt, maybe ordinary students could enroll out of pure passion to pursue a goal that could benefit humanity in some way and work with the talented students! The talented and the talentless studying, researching and working side by side to accomplish great things!”

“I’ll…I’ll take that into consideration.”

It wasn’t outright dismissal, so that was already a win. Suddenly, something came to mind. He had dwelled on it for such a long time and now that he actually had a chance of it happening, it was too tempting to just stay quiet.

“Um, if I can add a request?”

“You may.”

“I was planning on making some type of memorial, for all those lost, to the project and otherwise. But, if I could feasibly make it public and show the other reserve course students that they won’t need to fear for their lives anymore, that they’re finally allowed to mourn, to speak of their loss without fear…This might be too much to ask for and I’m sorry for pushing my luck, but your funds would definitely make it easier-”

He’s cut off.

“Yes, I am appalled you hesitated to ask, of course I can build a memorial! It’s the least I could do for allowing all of this to happen under my nose.”

Politely, he adds.

“On the subject of the reserve course, your idea has merit and requires a little deliberating on my part.”

Then, he bows.

“Thank you for your time.”

It’s not every day the principal of your school humbles himself. He exits the office, feeling a little triumphant. The future seems just a bit brighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at me, proposing systematic reforms in fictional universes!


End file.
